


Distraction

by LadySesame



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Goodneighbor (Fallout), Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Neck Kissing, Recreational Drug Use, Swearing, Valencock, hancock is fucked up, he's a ghoul and it sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27744349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySesame/pseuds/LadySesame
Summary: “So then what you're telling me is--” Hancock placed his free hand gently on Nick’s-- “You wouldn’t mind if I were to--” the hand traveled up his arm until it was holding the side of his face-- “Do this?”Nick felt his stomach flip. “N-no, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”Hancock leaned closer until Nick could feel the heat of his breath on his skin when he spoke. “How about this?”“I uh--”“Or this?” And then Hancock kissed him full on the mouth.ORNick goes to ask Hancock some questions about a case but runs into him on the anniversary of the day he became a ghoul.
Relationships: John Hancock & Nick Valentine, John Hancock/Nick Valentine
Comments: 7
Kudos: 48





	Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> So i decided to attempt to write fanfiction for the first time since I was like 12. I'm sorry if this is absolutely terrible.

Nick was working late again. It was something that came often with his job. He didn’t always mean to, but detective work wasn’t exactly something that could be left on the back burner. It was serious business, with real things at risk. There just weren't enough people out to help each other in the commonwealth and that made things dangerous considering the amount of chaos that people had to deal with on a daily basis. People died out there. People went missing. And Nick was one of the few people that you could rely on to help you without demanding excessive payments or holding prejudices at you for being a synth or ghoul. 

It was a missing persons case that Nick had been working on that night. Ellie had already left for the day, and the detective agency had officially closed up shop, but he had decided to linger at his desk just a little bit longer, pouring over the same case file he had been all evening. A farmer had asked for their help finding his missing daughter who’d vanished in the middle of the night two weeks ago. They’d suspected raiders, but Nick doubted it. Raiders usually caused a commotion, and this had happened silently. Nick suspected the girl had just run off for some reason or another, and that meant he had to track her down and at least make sure she was alright. 

He’d already exhausted all the leads he had. No sign of a struggle, or attack by raiders. No conflict with her family or a secret boyfriend she could run off with. No sign of chem addiction. By all accounts it appeared that she had just up and left, which left Nick with nothing to do but go around like an idiot asking people if they’d seen any sign of her. 

Diamond City had produced no leads and Nick finally sighed and crossed out the last name on his list. If there was no sign of her here then his next best bet was to hit up Hancock in Goodneighbor and ask if anyone matching the girl’s description had stopped in town recently. 

_ Right. Better get a move on then. _

\-----------------------

It was around 1am when Nick finally reached Goodneighbor, and he had been lucky enough to avoid any confrontations with raiders or super mutants along the way.

It was a cold night. Light gray flakes of snow were softly falling from the sky, leaving a white dusting on the mangled concrete that nearly glowed in the shine of Goodneighbour’s neon lights. It didn’t snow like it did in the memories he had from the real Nick Valentine anymore. It happened rarely in the Commonwealth, and instead of fluffy white flakes, they were a range of greys that burned your skin on contact. Nick couldn’t blame people for not wanting to get caught outside tonight. He was lucky his synthetic skin was unaffected. 

As soon as he was inside the gates of the town, Nick made a beeline for the Old State House. The guards posted at the front doors looked him over warily, but made no more to stop him as he pushed through the wooden door. They all knew who Nick was, and Hancock had made it explicitly clear years ago that no one was to stop the detective from seeing him. 

He stopped at the door to Hancock’s private rooms, and hesitated. Part of him felt guilty for calling on Hancock this late at night, even though the ghoul was rarely asleep before 3am. Being a synth, Nick didn’t exactly partake in what would be considered a normal schedule either, but he was a gentleman _ goddammit, _ and he would respect social etiquette even if no one else in the Commonwealth seemed to. Just a side effect of knowing life from before the war, he assumed.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door three times. The door was ripped from its hinges almost immediately.

“I thought I told you lowlifes to leave me alone toni--” The ghoul’s words caught in his throat as he realized it was not, in fact, the neighbourhood watch at the door. Then a grin spread across his face.

“Nicky! Good to see you! How’s my favorite bucket of bolts doing?”

The detective’s eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of his friend. A pink tinge lightly colored his cheeks. The collar of his coat had been left half folded, half up, giving him an unkempt appearance-- not that he usually kept himself in pristine condition. No, the Mayor of Goodneighbor was too wild for that. It didn’t surprise Nick that he spent most of his time in various states of inebriation and undress. That was just Hancock.

Nick’s eyes drifted past the ghoul to the multiple empty bottles, broken glass and canisters of jet that were strewn on the floor of the room. He cleared his throat before speaking. “Uh, what’s the occasion?”

Hancock leaned on the frame of the door and gave him a somewhat pained smile. “You could say I’m celebrating an anniversary of sorts.”

“Well I’m sorry to, uh, bother you, John, but I need to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

“Anything for you, Valentine.” Hancock was now clinging to the door frame for support, a drunken smile of his face. To Nick’s surprise, he reached out a hand and brushed his knuckles along the synth’s cheek. He then leaned in close so that Nick could smell the alcohol on his breath when he spoke.

“You have beautiful eyes,” he said, plainly. “Has anyone ever told you that, Nicky?” The Mayor’s voice held a certain innocence to it, as if he had only just noticed within that moment and decided to tell Nick his realization. 

Nick felt himself stiffen. He couldn’t deny that interactions with Hancock sometimes caught him off guard. But after all these years of knowing him he was more or less used to it. Humans sometimes showed their reactions on their sleeves, an involuntary response. But Nick was a synth, he didn’t feel like humans did. He couldn’t blush. But if he’d had real skin he probably would have. 

“I’m a synth, John. I don’t have eyes. Not real one’s anyway.”

“That still won’t stop me from getting lost in them.”

Nick took a step back “You’re drunk,” he stated. “I can come back in the morning.”

Hancock grunted and turned away, waving the detective in after him. “I’m not drunk enough. I can still form coherent thoughts. That’s never a good sign.” 

He somewhat stumbled towards a large cabinet at the back of the room and cracked open the door to reveal an extensive stock of alcohol. “You want some? I keep the really good shit in here.”

Nick awkwardly stepped past the door frame, and closed the door quietly behind him with a click. “Thank you, but I think I’ll pass.” 

“Well then at least have a seat,” Hancock said and gestured to a moth-eaten sofa with more than one suspicious stain on it. 

Nick didn’t want to sit on it, but nodded politely and did so anyway. Hancock finished selecting his choice booze from the cabinet and plopped himself down next to Nick, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and poured himself a glass of whiskey. With Nick not having a glass of his own to toast with, Hancock clicked his glass onto Nick’s shoulder, chuckling at the metallic  _ ping _ it made before taking a long sip.

“So what brings you to Goodneighbor, Nicky?”

“I’m working a case. Young girl went missing two weeks ago and her family has no sign of where she went. I wanted to know if you’ve seen her around Goodneighbor.”

“Might’ve. What's her name?”

“Dahlia Evans. She’s in her late teens. Petite, red hair, scar on her left hand.”

Hancock shook his head. “Can’t say I have.” He downed the rest of his drink and reached into his coat, producing yet another canister of jet.

“ _ Damn _ I suppose I’ll have to start checking the nearby settlements, then. Maybe I’ll head up to Sanctuary.” He tipped his hat in the mayor’s direction. “Thanks for your help.”

Before he could make a move to leave, Hancock inched closer to him on the couch, so that their shoulders were nearly touching. Nick made a face as he watched the mayor inhale a puff and lean back, letting out a sigh.

“I don’t know how you can stand that stuff.”

“And I don’t know how  _ you  _ can have such a stick up your ass.”

“Jet is made with manure, John. You’re inhaling literal shit. 

Hancock’s gaze drifted lazily over to him as the ghoul draped an arm along the back of the couch, just behind Nick’s shoulders. “Don’t care. As long as it gets me fucked up, I’m fine. Besides, this one’s cherry flavor.”

“That doesn’t make it much better,” Nick replied, acutely aware of the fact that John’s thumb was now gently tracing a line across his shoulder. 

“Well maybe,” John said, his voice low, “you shouldn’t knock it till you try it.”

Their faces were only inches apart now. Hancock’s eyes were half lidded as he leaned ever so slightly closer. Nick could feel his breath hitch. Then his gaze set once again on the empty bottles of alcohol, the pink tinge of Hancock’s skin.

Nick didn’t realize he would really follow through until Hancock’s lips were on his own. 

He stood up suddenly. “I should go.”

“Nick wait--”

“You’re busy,” Nick sputtered, “and I have a case to solve and I have already overstayed my welcome.”

“Oh c’mon, don’t leave.” Hancock tried to stop him before he reached the door, but ended up tripping over himself and stumbling forwards. Nick grabbed him before he could completely collapse on the floor but not before the hand that braced his fall had sliced itself across a shard of glass.

“Shit,” he said as Nick helped him stand again. 

“You okay?”

Hancock grunted. “I’ll live.”

Allowing him to lean his weight into Nick, he helped the ghoul back on to the sofa. Hancock all but melted into the weathered pillows, pulling Nick’s arm limply along with him. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Nick asked, settling himself once again on the disgusting sofa.

“S’fine.”

Hancock made an attempt to grab for the remains of the whiskey bottle on the coffee table but Nick was faster and slid it just out of his reach. “I think you’ve had enough for now.”

“I told you, I’m celebrating.”

“By getting completely smashed?”

Hancock gave him a wink. “Heh, heh. Yeah.”

Hancock getting completely smashed wasn’t something new-- Nick had run into him drunk or high more times than he’d probably run into him sober-- but doing it alone was uncommon. Usually he was with his friends in the neighbourhood watch, or at The Third Rail, or surrounded by men and women who were more than eager to take their clothes off. If none of the above at  _ least _ Fahrenheit was usually around.

“What’s really going on, John?”

Hancock’s eyes flicked from Nick to the carpet. “It doesn’t matter. Now are you gonna hand me that bottle and let me continue to drink my problems away or what?”

“I--” There was no sense in refusing. John was a grown man, after all. Regardless if Nick didn’t have a taste for watching his friend get piss drunk, there was nothing he could do to stop it. It was none of his business. 

Nick offered him the bottle. 

Hancock grabbed it and took another sip, then paused. “You don’t need to look at me like that,” he said. 

Nick blinked. “Like what?”

“Like this.” Hancock made an exaggerated frown and crossed his arms over his chest. “You know if you hate it so much, there are other ways I can keep distracted, but you already rejected me on that front.”

“John I--”

“Hey it’s fine if you weren’t into it,” he said, throwing his hands up in defense. “I understand that you wouldn’t be into...someone like me.”

Nick looked down. “I...never said I wasn’t into it.”

Hancock raised an eyebrow, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh?”

“You just surprised me, is all.”

“So then what you're telling me is--” Hancock placed his free hand gently on Nick’s-- “You wouldn’t mind if I were to--” the hand traveled up his arm until it was holding the side of his face-- “Do this?”

Nick felt his stomach flip. “N-no, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

Hancock leaned closer until Nick could feel the heat of his breath on his skin when he spoke. “How about this?” 

“I uh--”

“Or this?” And then Hancock kissed him full on the mouth.

Nick’s heart skipped a beat at the feeling of Hancock’s lips on his own. He had only kissed a couple of people in his lifetime--it wasn’t like he was overflowing with options as a hybrid-synth detective. But the old Nick Valentine had kissed lots of people so Nick just closed his eyes and let the instincts he had inherited take over.

Nick was panting ever so slightly when Hancock pulled away.

The ghoul smirked, also breathing hard. “How ‘bout that, Nicky?” He traced the side of Nick’s face with his knuckles like he’d done earlier. “You mind if I do that?”

“N-no, not at all.”

“Heh. Good.” He kissed him again.

The kiss was harder this time, and Nick was much more ready for it than the previous one. It was easy to let his eyes flutter shut and lean into the softness of John’s mouth, the warmth of the hand that had found its way onto his chest. 

And then John was pulling him closer by his coat and moving his lips to place a kiss against the corner of his mouth, then a few kisses along the good side of his jaw, traveling lower with each one. A small sound escaped his lips when John finally reached the spot right underneath his jaw.

_ “God _ , Nick,” John whispered against his skin. “Wanted to do this for so long.”

“You have?” Nick’s voice came out shaky as John dragged his teeth over the sensitive skin before placing another kiss on the same spot.

“Mmhmm. Been flirting with you for a while now, but I wasn’t sure if you were ignoring me ‘cause you weren’t interested or just too dense to notice.”

Nick was about to respond but his ability to form words was thrown out the window when Hancock softly bit the spot between his neck and shoulder. 

“You know, you can touch me if you want,” John said, moving back up to kiss him properly. “Here.” He pulled Nick's hand over to rest on his hip.

Nick hummed into the kiss and gathered the confidence to draw small circles on John’s hip with his thumb while the other hand snaked its way around John's waist. 

“Hmm, there ya go.”

John kissed him again, this time taking the opportunity to slide his tongue into Nick’s mouth. He tasted like alcohol and, thankfully, artificial cherry flavoring. Without breaking the kiss, he stood up on his knees and swung a leg over Nick’s so that he was sitting on his lap. 

Nick lost himself in each touch. He couldn’t deny that he liked Hancock, but he had never acted on it, never thought it would matter when he was, well...a broken old synth. And he had noticed the ghoul flirting with him on more than one occasion, but he’d thought nothing of it. That was just the way he was, he’d told himself. Hancock flirted with Nick just like he did with a lot of people, and with Nick being so serious all the time, he thought it was just his friend’s way of getting a rise out of him. 

But this,  _ this,  _ he could get used to. John’s hands on his chest, beneath his shirt, his lips on his neck, shoulders, and collarbone. Even if Nick was just a distraction, it felt  _ so good _ to be one. 

“Let’s get this show on the road, eh, Sunshine?” Hancock was tugging him across the room by the collar of his shirt-- his detective coat long abandoned on the couch-- and then towards a bed where he flopped down so that Nick was pulled on top of him. 

Nick didn’t waste any time leaning in to kiss him again, and pressed the ghoul into the worn mattress. Hancock let out a groan, and pulled Nick closer by the back of his neck. Nick kissed him deeper, this time grabbing his bottom lip between his teeth.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Hancock breathed. “Do that again.”

And Nick couldn’t simply deny a request like that, so he did, this time nipping at John’s lips before moving down to suck a spot below his jaw. Hancock’s breath hitched as Nick sucked the skin until it was purple before moving to do the same on a spot slightly lower. 

  
  


“Fuuckk, Nicky,” he murmured, letting out a moan. “So good.”

And John’s hands were fumbling at the buttons of his shirt and pulling Nick back up to his mouth so he could kiss him roughly and scrape his nails down Nick’s back. 

But then Nick felt something wet against his cheek, and Hancock let out the tiniest whimper that he wouldn’t have noticed if they weren't so close. 

Nick broke the kiss and lifted his head just enough to see tear tracks lining Hancock’s face. “John, wha--”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, pulling Nick back to his mouth.

But Nick couldn’t just  _ not worry about it _ . Not when he was making out with his drunk friend who was clearly going through...well,  _ something.  _ He pulled away and sat back on his knees, so he could fully see Hancock. 

Hancock opened his mouth to say something but no sound came out and he turned his head away. Nick reached out a tentative hand and wiped a tear off his cheek with his thumb. 

“John, are you okay?” He said it in the softest voice he could muster.

“I’m fine,” John said, wiping away the remaining wetness with his sleeve. “S’ nothing. I-I’m sorry, I just really need a distraction right now.”

He tried to lean in and kiss Nick again but Nick stopped him before he could.

“I can’t just ignore it if something is wrong,” he said.

“Yes you can, I do it all the time.” He made an attempt to kiss at his neck, but this time Nick placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him away.

“John stop.”

And to Nick’s relief, he did, a fresh tear blooming at the corner of his eye. 

Carefully, Nick climbed off of him and shuffled along the bed until he was sitting next to Hancock, back rested against the headboard. Something broke inside him when John let out a sob, not bothering to hide it anymore, and clung onto Nick’s side, burying his face in the crook of his neck. 

Nick wrapped his arms around the ghoul and began to rub slow circles along his back. 

“Please don’t leave,” Hancock whispered.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good.”

The two of them sat like that, Nick’s arms wrapped around Hancock’s body, allowing his friend to cry into his shoulder silently as the late hours of the night slowly became the early hours of the morning. Nick forgot all about his case. He could follow up on it tomorrow, right now all that mattered was making sure that Hancock was okay and rubbing small circles on his back. Nothing mattered except the stillness of the night and the warmth of another body pressed up against his own, and the near silence between them. 

“Nick?” Hancock said eventually.

“Yeah?”

“Today was the day that I became a ghoul.”

_ Oh. Shit.  _ Hancock had told Nick what had happened all those years ago, about Mcdonough and Diamond City and the radiation drug, but Nick had never realized that there was a day that reminded him of it annually.  _ Fuck, no wonder he was upset. _

Nick held him tighter.

“I usually just sit in here all night and get higher than a kite,” Hancock said, letting out a sound that was halfway between a sob and a laugh. “But I’m glad you’re here this time. I...don’t want to be alone.”

“Hey,” Nick said, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead, “I’ll be here as long as you need me to be.”

If there was anything that Nick had learned in the years he’d been a private eye, it was that there wasn’t always an easy solution to things. The commonwealth was a harsh place and sometimes people died, or went missing, or other terrible, terrible things happened. There was nothing that he could’ve said to fix what had happened, to make John feel better after all that his past had put him through. Nick had plenty of baggage himself, so he knew how that was. But what he could do was be there for him, and hold him tightly, and just hope that maybe-- just maybe-- that could be enough.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
